The Final Answer

This is my entry for the Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest's most recent theme, Surrender or Run. It's very short, only 415 words long, although that is intentional, for I was aiming to make it as concise as I could.Anyway, enough rambling. Here's the story:A Toa of Iron stood in the gateway of his village. He carried a long, black-handled sword in his right hand, which he spun every now and then out of boredom.Aside from that, he stood still most of the time, simply listening to the darkness of the night, though he rarely heard anything save for the swaying of the grass in the wind.Part of him -- the panicky side that always seemed to surface during times like tonight -- was relieved. He would not have to inform his friend of his choice yet. That part of him wanted to sing the praises of the Great Spirit, but the other, more rational side of him was cautious. The absence of the other did not mean he was never going to come.A second later, the Toa of Iron heard someone's feet lightly walking across the grass. He immediately seized one of the torches hanging on the gate and held it up, allowing him to see a Toa of Earth approaching. The Toa of Earth wore slightly bulkier armor than his, but he had no trouble recognizing his Toa brother."So you came back after all," said the Toa of Iron, his gaze fixed firmly on the newcomer. "I thought for a moment that your army had fled.""Friend," said the Toa of Earth, taking a step forward. "Please listen to me. The Makuta wants to know the choice you have made-""And we choose neither," the Toa of Iron replied. "We're not surrendering nor running. We're defending our village to the death.""And that's your final answer?""Yes. We're not going let the Brotherhood push us around anymore."The Toa of Earth looked at the ground. "Then . . . I guess this is our last good bye."The Toa of Iron nodded. "I wish things could have gone differently, but after the others' deaths, we're not going to stand for it anymore."The Toa of Earth shook his head. "It doesn't have to be this way. You could become one of the Makuta's Hagah, I'm sure of-""She's a well-known Toa of Iron murderer," the Toa of Iron snapped. "Now get out of here, unless you want to fight."For a moment, the Toa of Earth looked like he was about to take up him on that offer, but instead he turned and walked away. The Toa of Iron watched him go, knowing that this was probably the last time he'd ever see his friend again.-So there you have it. Constructive criticism, comments, reviews, etc. are all welcomed and encouraged .-TNTOS-

Edited by TNTOS, Apr 11 2013 - 09:01 AM.

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"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt

Thank you for pointing out that typo, fishers . Glad you liked the story.

-TNTOS-

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"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt